


Gym

by queenhomeslice



Series: Hopeless [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Established Relationship, F/M, Gym class, cheesy flirting, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22331128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: A snippet of gym class
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Reader
Series: Hopeless [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607842
Comments: 10
Kudos: 28





	Gym

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final  
> Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own  
> the rights to FF in any way.

High school gym is a different kind of Hell. If high school is Hell, then PE is the first circle, at the very bottom, the hottest of the hot. Short of any legitimate debilitating disability, no one is the exception, not even Noctis with his bad knee—and least of all you.  _Sorry Coach, I’m calling in fat today._ It doesn’t help that it’s co-ed, that all the boys get to see you girls in the short black shorts and white and black-ringed t-shirts. As if the normal uniforms weren’t enough, now everyone has to witness you in even less clothing, sweating and panting as you try to keep up with whatever torture is on the agenda today: dodgeball, sprints, push-ups, jumping jacks, aerobics. Two sports bras and your tits still threaten to knock you out with every quick movement, every short jog, every jump. You’re not the only fat girl in school, but size solidarity is nonexistent, and if you hadn’t wedged your way into the clicks by now, then the rest of senior year is going to be hopeless. You can’t even vent to the people who understand your predicament that government-enforced cookie-cutter calisthenics aren’t the way to go. 

It’s hot today, and you’re all out on the soccer pitch that’s surrounded by the running track. The only thing getting you through is shamelessly watching Prompto fly past you, lap after lap. The way this calves and thighs slightly jiggle as he hits the ground in hard, even strides. The white shirt sporting the school logo, drenched in sweat, half see-through and clinging to his lean muscles...his hair slicked away from his face in a terry cloth headband; his freckled face flushed red; his chest heaving with labored breath. He’s seconds ahead of all of the boys on the track—Noctis is in second place, despite the grinding bones of his left knee. 

You’re with all the other girls in the middle of the field, in the process of being split into teams for a quick soccer match. Team captains are chosen—then the field positions, sweeper, striker, left-back, and the rest. Of course you’re always picked last, and you roll your eyes as some skinny redhead begrudgingly says your name and assigns you the position of goalie. Thank the gods, at least you don’t have to run as much, like last week’s field activity. 

The physical torture slowly lumbers to and end, and hey, today wasn’t all bad—your team won, and you’d only missed one ball. You’d eventually gotten so focused on the game that you didn’t see your boyfriend standing on the sidelines, watching you with his arms folded and one bony hip cocked out in a casual stance. Noctis mirrors his posture, and the two boys chatter quietly until the game is called. 

A few girls actually nod their appreciation to you, and you give a small smile, folding your hands on top of your head and walking around in a tight circle. A wolf whistle breaks you out of your cool down. 

You open your eyes and spot Prom and Noct, and you shake your head as the too-loud catcalls continue until you’re right in front of them. 

“Now that we’re dating, I can tell you how hot you look in the gym uniform,” Prompto says. 

“Oh please,” you say, grabbing the loose fabric of your shirt and flapping it, attempting to get some air circulation underneath. 

“_____________, Chocobean, love of my life,” Prompto coos, bending down to shamelessly kiss you on the lips. “Would I ever lie?”

You feel your face flush, and not from the effort of playing soccer. “No,” you mumble. 

“Your legs, in these shorts,” says Prompto. “I worship them. You’re fucking flawless.”

Noctis even blushes and shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Hey, uh. We should get back. Hit the showers.”

“Ugh, right. Wouldn’t wanna be late for our history test.” You grab Prompto’s hand and the three of you start to wander aimlessly after your classmates. 

“You’re actually pretty good at being a goalie,” Noctis interjects into the comfortable silence. 

“That’s because she’s good at everything,” Prompto sighs, all dramatic and lovesick. 

“Pffft, yeah, hardly. I’m not like you, Prom. Like. Your running. You’re a just...a god.”

Prompto goes red to his ears and sputters. “Well I wouldn’t say that, I just...”

“No, you are. Fuck Prom, you’re the captain of the track team for a reason,” Noct laughs. 

“Running’s easy,” Prompto shrugs, giving your hand a squeeze. “Other sports take actual tactics and strategy.”

The three of you approach the indoor gym, idle chit-chat fading into silence again, and part ways just before the split of the boy’s and girl’s locker rooms. Prompto draws you into a hug and cups your double chin in his long, slender fingers. “I’ll miss you,” he says. 

You grin and stand on tiptoes to peck his lips. “I’ll see you in ten minutes, nerd.” 

“Ten minutes too long!” Prompto shouts dramatically as Noctis pulls him into the showers. 


End file.
